


Between Us

by canonjohnlock



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Based off a Grey's Anatomy Episode, Based on Death and Violence, Blood, Hospitals, I Hate Myself Too Don't Worry, Implied Dan/Phil, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, One Shot, implied suicide, minor gore, pure angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7934563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canonjohnlock/pseuds/canonjohnlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan and Phil are involved in a serious train accident and the consequences are severe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Us

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am back with another angst-y fic! I would like to thank my betas: theaterkidlester on tumblr, serenitylester on tumblr, and cactuslester on tumblr. This fic is based off season two, episode six of Grey's Anatomy. It contains no spoilers and no actual characters from Grey's. There is IMPLIED Dan and Phil in this fic, so if you are looking for love confessions and smooches, this is not the fic for you. I hope you enjoy!

Sam was working his third twelve hour shift at the hospital. Not even coffee could keep him awake at this point, but he chugged it down nonetheless. Technically he was on call, so he could nip a few hours sleep somewhere, but as fate would have it, his pager went off at that moment. Sighing, he chucked his empty cup of coffee into the bin and checked his pager. He was needed in the accident and emergency room. There was a huge train accident and at least a hundred people had been injured. All the patients were being siphoned off to the nearby hospitals with the worse off coming to his hospital. Thanking God he had no interns to worry about, he jogged down to the ambulance bay and grabbed a new pair of latex gloves from the box by the door. As he waited for the first ambulance to arrive, he asked, “What happened?”

Harriet, a general surgeon, glanced at him before answering. “Bomb went off on a train headin’ towards Manchester.” She shook her head. “Over one hundred and fifty confirmed deaths so far.”

He whistled. “Damn. You know what we got coming in?”

“Jared radioed in and said the first one arriving is the worst he’s seen in years.”

“Any other details?”

“Nope. Just that we won’t believe our eyes.”

He chuckled. He had been a doctor for nearly fifteen years. Nothing shocked him anymore; he had seen everything. He had seen bugs in ears, organs outside of bodies, brains splattered on gurneys with the patient alert and talking, balloons of cocaine in an overweight guy’s stomach. And before that he was a doctor in the army. If you named it, he’d seen it.

But he was still surprised when the ambulance arrived and the paramedics pulled two people out of the back. Two people who were attached. Two people with a pole running straight through them.

“Jesus fuck,” Harriet mumbled and she and Sam directed the paramedics to room two.

He stared at the two men on the gurney. They looked too young, barely out of university. They were clutching each other tightly, the one with brown eyes fisting the other man’s sleeve. They had neck braces on and IVs jammed in their elbows.

“Get me blood bags! O negative! Whatever we have!” he shouted, stuffed his stethoscope in his ears. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Dan and Phil were just trying to get up to Manchester to meet up with some old friends. They hadn’t expected their train to fucking _ blow up _ while they were on it. Dan was in too much shock to actually feel the pain, but he imagined it would set in soon. He had a stitch in his side, like a cramp from running. When he probed it, it hurt like hell. Phil told him to stop touching it, that it could be a blood pocket or something.

“A blood pocket?” he asked.

Phil shrugged as best he could considering he had a pole through his abdomen. “I don’t know! I’m not a doctor!”

If he had to be attached to anyone, he was glad it was Phil. Phil was his best friend and knew him better than anyone. If he had to die in anyone’s arms, he was happy they were Phil’s.

Dan could recall it frame by frame, like he had filmed it and was reviewing the footage meticulously. The air rippled around them, and then he felt the heat, like his skin was burning. Next came the sound, like a million guns going off at once. And then he was tossed through the air and collided with Phil, their chests pressed together. Then he felt something go through his back, right in the center. He felt something spray his face and then he and Phil hit the ground.

He must have passed out because when he woke up he had neck brace on and an oxygen mask pressed to his face. He had his chin tucked over Phil’s shoulder, and his hand was resting on Phil’s thigh. He made to move back when someone grabbed his shoulder.

“Don’t move,” said a hoarse voice. It wasn’t Phil.

“What’s happened? Who are you?” he asked, feeling oddly calm.

“I’m Jared, an EMT. You’ve been in an accident. A pole is going through your middle back and upper abdomen,” the voice said and a face with a mop of shaggy hair appeared before him.

“That’s not good,” Dan said.

“No, it’s not,” Jared agreed. He shone a light in his eyes and had him follow his finger. “How are you feeling?”

“I have a stitch in my side,” he admitted, fingers going to touch it.

That’s when Phil mentioned the blood pocket. “Dan! Don’t touch it!”

“Yeah,” Jared agreed, lifting his shirt as best he could to look at his side. “I think it’s a burst appendix or shredded spleen. Your biggest worry right now is the pole going through you.”

“You okay?” Dan asked Phil, tapping his finger against his thigh.

“I’m fine, yeah. Considering I have pole going through me.”

“Do you feel any pain?”

“No. Do you?”

Dan shook his head. “Must be the shock.”

Jared asked them mundane questions as they raced towards the hospital.  _ Why were you heading to Manchester? Have any girlfriends? Boyfriends? What do you like to do? What’s your favorite TV show? _

When they finally arrived at the A&E, Dan heard a doctor hiss, “Jesus fuck.” He grabbed Phil’s sleeve at that point. The pain was beginning to set in as the reality of his situation crashed upon him. He could  _ die _ . His life had barely begun. And he could  _ fucking die _ .

The doctor, an older man with light blond hair and a slight scruff pressed his stethoscope to his back. “Hi. My name’s Sam. Who are you?”

“D-Dan.”

“Hi, Dan. We’re gonna take good care of you, okay? Are you feeling any pain?”

“Um, yeah. In my side. And my back and stomach.”

“Alright. Looks like the shock is wearing off. We’re gonna get you started on some pain medicine. Do you know your blood type?”

“N-No.”

“It’s A positive,” Phil supplied.

Sam blinked. “Okay. Great. Is there anyone we could call for you?”

“My mum and dad. They live in Wokingham,” he said shakily. “Am I gonna live?”

There was a beat before Sam responded. “We’ll try our hardest to make sure you do.”

“Jessica! Can you cut off their shirts for me? We need to examine the entrance and exit wounds,” a female doctor shouted, tossing her stethoscope aside. “And get us scheduled for a CT scan, would you? We have no idea what they look like on the inside. It could look like their insides were chucked in a blender.”

“So subtle,” Phil mumbled in Dan’s ear. Due to their position, his head was resting on Dan’s shoulder as Dan’s was on his.

“Tell me about it,” Dan snorted.

* * *

Sam stared at the images in front of him. To put it simply, Dan was fucked. And so was Phil.

“How they are still alive and talking is beyond me,” Gabrielle, the neurosurgeon commented. “Well, the guy on the right, I can see him speaking, but the other one—”

“Dan,” Sam provided.

“The railing is going right through his spine. Even if he makes it out alive, he’ll be paralyzed from the waist down. And his intestines are shot. Even if he survived having the pole extracted, we’d have to remove a good part of his large and small intestines. I don’t see how he could possibly survive.”

Harriet frowned at the images. “Well, it doesn’t matter much. We have to pull one of them off backwards. There’s no way we can cut the pole in between them. There’s not enough room.” She sighed and pinched her nose. Sam said exactly what she was thinking.

“Pulling one of them off backwards would basically be killing them, Harriet,” Sam said, gaping at her.

“There’s not much choice,” Gabrielle said. “Either one dies or they both do.”

“I say we pull Dan off. He’s the one with the most damage. The pole missed Phil’s spine and the way it’s angled caused it to slice through only part of his intestines. He’s has the highest chance of survival,” Harriet explained.

“Arguably,” Sam said, feeling defensive of his patient, as any good doctor would, “that means we should pull Phil off. That would give Dan a better chance.”

Gabrielle shook her head. “We can’t do that. That would lower Phil’s survival chances and as of now, it’s highly unlikely Dan would even survive one surgery. And right now, Phil has no internal bleeding. The pole is keeping his veins and arteries sealed shut. Dan is bleeding everything. He’s a fucking mess.” She turned to face Sam. “I’m sorry, but keeping one alive is better than keeping neither alive.”

He knew she was right. The more time they spent arguing meant lowering the survival rate. “Okay. But we have to explain to them what will happen.”

“We can’t,” Harriet said quietly.

“The fuck do you mean?”

“You saw how close they were. Phil will demand he pulled off so Dan has better chances.”

“We  _ have _ to tell them, Harry. It wouldn’t be fair,” Gabrielle said. “It’s not ideal, but we need their consent.”

Harriet sighed. “Okay.”

* * *

Phil knew Dan was in pain. He could feel him trembling and tensing up at every slight movement. His skin was slick and warm and his breaths were short and breathy. “Dan? Are you alright?”

He felt him smile against his neck. “I’m f-fine. Don’t worry about me.”

But Phil knew he wasn’t. His heart was hammering against his ribs; he could feel it. “We’re gonna make it out of this, okay?”

“Of course we are, Phil,” Dan said, all faux confidence. But Phil could hear the tremble in his voice. “We’re gonna make it out and this will make for a great video, yeah?”

He could hear his voice slowing down, slurring. “Keep talking to me, Dan. Tell me about that video you filmed the other day.” He had his hand on Dan’s thigh and was clutching so hard he was surprised Dan couldn’t feel it.

“It was jus’ anotha Internet Support Group.”

“Yeah? What kinds of questions did you answer?” Phil asked, squeezing Dan’s thigh experimentally. He had always been ticklish there.

Dan didn’t try to bat his hand away. “Jus’ tha normal ones, you know? Things like… ‘M pregnant and it’s… It’s yours. I… I made it through four… Questions before I… Before I got tha alcohol.” He laughed weakly at that.

Phil squeezed his thigh again and got no reaction. That meant Dan couldn’t feel his hand. And if he couldn’t feel his hand… No. “When were you going to post it? Next year?”

Dan made a weak attempt at hitting Phil, but he barely brushed his arm. “Tomorrow, actually.” He took a deep breath. “‘M tired, Phil.”

“You can’t go to sleep, Dan. Stay awake now. It’s just like that time we tried to watch all seven series of  _ Buffy _ . You just gotta power through.”

“You… fell asleep… half way throughs series… four.”

“That’s true. But you woke me up, remember? So now I’m keeping you awake.”

Sam and Harriet walked in then with a new doctor with short brown hair. They looked grim. “How we holding up?” the new doctor asked, pulling out her stethoscope.

“I think he’s— I think he’s lost a lot of blood. He’s slurring and really tired,” Phil answered, panic evident in his voice.

“‘M fine, really,” Dan mumbled.

Phil watched all three doctors exchange a look. He watched Harriet shake her head at Sam. Sam sighed and approached the two of them. “We’re going to get this pole out of you guys soon, okay?”

“Oh, thank God. Please hurry. I think he’s— Is he—” Phil cut off and squeezed Dan’s thigh tightly.

“We’re gonna saw off the end here,” he indicated the side behind Dan’s back, “so that the edges are smooth and then we’re gonna pull Dan off it.”

“Okay, okay,” Phil said, nodding. “Let’s do it.”

“But, we’ll pulling him off the wrong way, so to say. Chances are he won’t make it.”

“What? Then pull me off the wrong way. I feel fine. Look at him!”

Harriet stepped up. “Phil, right now this pole is keeping all your blood in. If we pull it out, you’ll bleed out.”

“But you can give me blood. Please, don’t do this. Take me off, not Dan. Please, not Dan,” he begged. Dan breathed out against his neck just then and moaned. Phil felt tears prickling at his eyes. “Please. He’s- He’s my best friend. Please.”

Sam opened his mouth and shut it again. Harriet spoke for him. “We’re sorry, Phil. But, it’s either lose both or you or just one. Your best chances of survival lie in pulling Dan off.”

Phil shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “Dan’s my best friend. I can’t— I won’t live without him. I  _ can’t _ live without him.”

The new doctor spoke next. “We’re wasting time. The more time we argue, the less chance your friend has to survive.”

“Don’ I get a say in this?” Dan whispered. “I mean, it’s my life we’re talking… about.”

“No, Dan. No. Because you’ll insist you be pulled off—” Phil began.

“And I’ll be… right. Don’ risk your life… for me… Phil.”

Phil felt tears run down his cheeks. “Dan, no. I won’t let you die.”

“Who said… anything ‘bout… dying?” He laughed and then coughed. Phil felt something wet drip down his back. Probably blood. “I’ll be going back… home.” He laughed again. “Tuh- Tuh hell.”

Phil choked on a sob and wished he could pull Dan closer. “Dan. I can’t— I won’t...”

“You will, Phil. You gotta… you gotta keep going… for our fans… for our families… for our friends… Don’t make them… lose both… of us.”

“You’re talking nonsense. Dan, please.”

“We’re running out of time,” Sam said softly.

“Dan. Dan, please. You’re- You’re my best friend and I- I love you. Dan, I love you.”

“Of course you do. I love you, too. Which is why I’m gonna be pulled off and you’ll live.”

“Dan. Dan, I—”

The monitor went crazy then, beeping rapidly. “He’s going into cardiac arrest!” Sam yelled. "Get a crash cart! Jessica, I need a unit of adenosine, stat!”

Phil clawed at Dan’s legs, willing him to feel anything. He watched through blurry eyes as Sam jammed a needle into Dan’s IV line and pushed the plunger. The beeping slowed down, but Dan’s breathing didn’t.

“We have to start.  _ Now _ ,” Harriet said. She looked expectantly at Phil.

“Fine! Fine! Okay!” he cried.

“Okay, we need an electric saw and some gauze,” Harriet demanded. “Now!”

It was all a blur of motion after that. Before Phil knew it, there were at least seven people in the small room, each with a job to do. One nurse kept an eye on the heart monitor, another held the rod steady as Harriet sawed through it, another watched the temperature of the rod to make sure it wouldn’t overheat, another stood by with a crash cart and Phil wasn’t sure what the rest were there for. But soon they began and the screeching of the bone saw was all that could be heard in that tiny cramped room.

Dan trembled against Phil, his hands seizing Phil’s bicep in panic. Phil could feel the pole vibrating in his stomach and it was an uncomfortable feeling. He wanted to squirm away from it, but every time he moved, Dan groaned, so Phil settled down. “When we get back home,” Phil whispered, “we’re gonna take a break for a while and just hang out, you know? Because I think we’ll deserve it after this. We’ll go off the grid and enjoy some time off. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah…” Dan responded hoarsely.

It took a long time to saw through the pole, even though the diameter wasn’t very big. It kept heating up because of the friction, and they had to stop and wait for it to cool down. It was hot in the room, but Dan was covered in goose pimples and shaking. Phil counted Dan’s heart beats in his head.  _ One. Two-Three. One. Two-three. Bum. Bum-bum. Bum. Bum-bum. _

Soon, Sam said, “Alright, we’ve cut through the pole, now we’re just gonna sand down the edges.”

“You hear that, Dan? They’re almost done. And then they’ll fix us up and we’ll be all better,” Phil said, voice thick.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, because we’re always okay, aren’t we?”

“Always,” Dan repeated, fingernails digging into Phil’s skin.

“Okay, we’re ready,” Harriet said.

“Wait!” Phil yelled. “Dan? Dan, can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to know that— that I love you and you’re my best friend and no one could ever replace you and Jesus, I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracked at the very end, and a fresh wave of tears trickled down his cheeks.

“I won’... leave you, Phil… I always be with… you. Promise.”

“I love you, Dan. Oh, my God, I love you.”

“I love you, too, Phil. I love you, too.”

Phil swallowed his next sob and nodded at Harriet. “Okay. We’re ready.”

Slowly, the doctors and nurses pulled Dan off the pole. As soon as they were separated, Phil was transferred to a different gurney and carted out of the room. The last he heard was the heart monitor going crazy and Sam yelling for the paddles.

* * *

Losing patients was always tough, no matter how long you knew them for. You learn a lot about a person in their last moments. You learn what matters most to them. For the little old lady in the oncology ward, it was her grandson. For the little boy in the A&E dying from blood loss, it was his toy trucks. For Dan, it was Phil.

It’s hard losing patients. It’s even harder when someone else loses them, too.

He visited Phil in his recovery room. He would make a full recovery and be on his feet in a few weeks. The heat from the pipe had cauterized his blood vessels, causing minimal blood loss. Harriet had taken out a few meters of his intestines, but other than that, he was fine. Physically, at least.

Once he had recovered from his physical injuries, Sam learned he was moved to adult psychiatry in London. Some other victims from the train accident were moved there, too.

A few months later, Sam was talking with Harriet and she brought up Dan and Phil while they were discussing the craziest things they had seen. “Apparently my niece knew them. They were YouTubers.” She pulled up one of their videos and showed it to him. Sam watched as they drew cat whiskers on each other and laughed and joked and loved. And his heart hurt even more. He did everything he could to save Dan, but it wasn't enough.

It’s not often doctors see their patients once they’re released, but nearly five years after the accident, Phil wandered back into Sam’s A&E, this time with a little boy holding his hand.

“This is Dan,” he told Sam, gesturing to the little boy with red hair and brown eyes. “Say hello.”

“Hello,” said Dan timidly, before hiding behind Phil’s legs.

“He’s my son. He’s three years old now.”

“He’s adorable. Was he named after… after Dan?” Sam asked, smiling at the little boy.

“Daniel James Lester, named after Daniel James Howell,” he confirmed, looking at his son fondly. “I met my partner at the hospital in London.”

“Were they in the accident, too?”

“Yeah, lost a sister to it.”

“How’re you holding up?”

Phil rubbed the back of his neck and pulled Dan out of the way of a nurse pushing a wheelchair. “Okay, I guess. Better than I was yesterday and the day before that.”

“I watched your videos,” he blurted.

“Did you? What’d you think?” Phil asked, smiling softly.

“They were funny. Dan seemed like a really cool guy.”

He looked away. “He was. He was my best friend.”

“How come you don’t make videos anymore?” When he didn’t answer, Sam rushed to add, “You don’t have to answer. It’s too personal.”

Phil shook his head. “No. It’s fine. I couldn’t do it anymore after Dan… you know. So, I quit. I’m a writer for a kids’ TV show now, so it all worked out okay.”

Sam nodded at Dan. “Seems like it.”

“Yeah. We actually better get going. It was nice seeing you. And thank you.”

Sam frowned. “For what?”

“For taking care of Dan. I know you tried your hardest, so thank you.”

“You’re— You’re welcome.”

* * *

A decade later, Sam had retired. He received an email from an unknown address, asking him to attend Philip Michael Lester’s funeral, born 29 January 1987, died 11 June 2031.

“Fell off a balcony, he did,” said a man around Phil’s age at the service. “His son saw him trip over a chair and just topple over.”

Dan Lester spoke at the funeral and gave a moving speech. He thanked Sam for coming and Sam gave his condolences.

As he left the funeral that day, he couldn’t help but feel it wasn’t an accident.

But no one would ever know.

**Author's Note:**

> For clarification: The pole must be pulled out in the same direction it was thrust in to avoid jostling more organs or something like that. It can’t be pulled out of both them because they don’t have the same blood types (In this story I don’t actually know their blood types. That’d be creepy.) so pulling it through both of them could lead to infection and stuff like that. If you have any other questions, feel free to leave a comment or message me on tumblr at bamflester.tumblr.com :)


End file.
